


For Tonight

by ever_enthralled



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facials, Spoilers for Season 3, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_enthralled/pseuds/ever_enthralled
Summary: Reiner takes a trip to a bar in the Underground with some of the other cadets, intent on getting answers from a certain Attack Titan. Instead, he gets wrapped up in one of the locals.
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 148





	For Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally a whole fic that varied in points of view, but i edited it to be reader insert. that said, 2 of my OCs are in a good portion of this. i love them v v much. almost as much as i love reiner.

“This place is disgusting,” Jean sneers as soon as they walk into the dingy bar, his sentiment repeated by both Eren and Connie. It isn’t a lie--the tavern is about as shady as they come, broken floorboards here and there, kerosene lanterns that leave too many dark corners, and a clientele that looks dirty at best and sickly at worst. It’s the Underground, though. What were the boys really expecting?  
“Quit whining and order a god damn drink,” Reiner demands, shoving the three smaller boys forward while Bertholdt remains next to him. 

“You don’t think they’ll ask for some kind of ID?” Connie asks, walking backwards to keep talking to the older blond and nearly running into a rather large patron because of it. 

Bertl swears under his breath, offers the offended man a sorry smile before steering Connie to the bar with the other cadets, muttering, “Look around you, Connie. You really think they care if you’re twenty?”

They don’t. Reiner and Bertholdt know they don’t because they’ve been to this bar before. It was only a couple times and a few years ago, back when they first joined the training corps and needed somewhere they could go to get away from everyone else, somewhere to talk without fear of people overhearing. The busty server had actually given them each a free drink, either mistaking the tall boys for being older or simply not caring. If Annie had joined them that night, they probably would not have received such fine treatment, but as the last third of their trio had stayed behind…

Reiner finds an empty table toward the edge of the room, takes an unoccupied chair from another group of people to complete his set of five, then grabs the one closest to the wall so he can keep his eye on the door. He isn’t expecting anyone, just likes to stay alert, especially after learning the hard way what can happen if caught unaware. 

His comrades--friends--line up at the counter, though it looks like Bertholdt orders for all of them. Kids probably haven’t ever been in a bar before in their lives, only had liquor the couple times it was snuck into the cadet barracks (maybe by Reiner, maybe not). They look utterly out of place, a mixture of awe and disgust, but the barmaiden obviously has no problem serving them as they all make their way over to the table, full mugs sloshing with ale. Bertl sets a glass down in front of Reiner before lowering himself into the chair beside him. The blond grunts his thanks, knows he won’t be drinking much, but it’ll at least keep him from appearing too suspicious. To Jean, at least. Eren and Connie are too damn dumb to realize anything is strange, but Jean’s got a bit of a sharper nose. 

There is a reason they’re all here, after all. Reiner had wanted to just take Eren out for a night on the Underground town, shoot the shit, get him fucked up, then pry some answers out of him--how did he get his Titan powers, when was the first time he shifted, what else can he do--but Bertl had told him that would be too obvious, that it should be staged as a group outing. They’d even invited Armin, but the kid had politely turned them down in favor of spending his night reading.

“So, you guys have come here before?” Connie asks before taking a sip of his drink, pulls the mug away from his face to reveal a ring of foam around his mouth. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while, though.”

“Not much seems to’ve changed,” Bertholdt notes, looking around.

They’re all in civilian clothes and therefore don’t stand out aside from their fresh faces. Reiner figures the Underground doesn’t see much Scout action these days, if it ever did, and it would probably put the public on edge to see five soldiers in full uniform and ODM gear strut in. There’s no need for all that, no one is here on business except for Reiner, and it’s definitely not business for the Survey Corps. 

“Holy shit, is that a prostitute?” Eren’s green eyes go wide as he points-- _points_ \--like a fucking _child_ , at a curvy woman at the end of the bar. She’s in a dress, corset pushing her chest so it’s on display for all to see. Eye makeup dark, lips red, cigarette between two fingers, Reiner almost snaps at Eren that just because a lady looks trashy, it doesn’t make her a prostitute, but then he watches her reach out and try to speak to three different men as they pass her, and well--

“Yeah, Eren, probably. Why, you wanna try your luck with her?”

“What? No! That’s gro--”

Reiner slaps his hand out of the air. “Then stop fuckin’ pointing.”

“Yeah, Eren, didn’t your parents ever teach you it’s rude to gawk at hookers?” Jean chuckles, takes a sip of ale and snorts into it when Jaeger shoves him. “Hey! Watch it, asshole!”

“I’m an asshole? You just brought up my _parents!_ ”

Reiner sighs heavily and reaches for his own mug. He locks gazes with Bertl as he takes a long drink, amber eyes narrowed at his friend as if to say, _this is your fault_. Would have been so much easier to just get the maniac drunk by himself. Now they have to put up with an antagonistic Jean plus Connie who is almost childlike as he peers around the walls of the tavern in utter curiosity.

“Can you guys be adults for _one_ night?” Reiner rolls his eyes. “Figured you two would be able to chill with the whole bickering couple dynamic if you got at least a little bit of liquor in you. Fuck.”

“Couple?!” Eren begins to boil, and Reiner thinks he might be able to see _not-titan_ steam pour out from his ears. Jean just splutters in an undignified manner, face heating up the more he tries and fails to defend himself. 

Laughing quietly, Bertl elbows Reiner in the side, quietly tells him, “You’re not making this any easier on yourself.”

“Yeah, I know. So, if you don’t mind me asking, Eren,” the blond starts slowly but firmly. “What were your parents like? You’ve never talked about them.”

The hot-headed boy seems to settle, posture relaxing as he leans away from Jean with whom he’d basically been nose to nose with. “Um, they were…” He raises his drink to his mouth, takes a swig and makes a face as he swallows. “They were great. Put up with my ass for eleven years, so…”

“A true testament to their patience,” Reiner chuckles. “What’d they do?”

“Mom stayed home and did all the cooking and cleaning. My dad was a doctor, though.” _Bingo_. “Made house calls and shit, and when he wasn’t out doing that, he was usually down in the basement.”

“The basement?” _As in the one you have the key to? The one the Scouts are all trying to get to?_

Eren nods, leans back in his chair, and Reiner has to stifle a laugh when he sees the kid’s eyes flick back over to the woman in the corner. _Curiosity killed the cat, Jaeger, or, at the very least, gave the cat chlamydia._

“Yeah, it was like his study or whatever. I was never allowed down there, so I’m guessing he probably had, like, medicines and stuff. Things a kid shouldn’t be messing with.”

“You think those medicines are what we’re looking for?” Bertholdt questions, cocking his massive head to the side. 

“Couldn’t tell you,” Eren shrugs. “Whatever’s down there, though, Commander Erwin sure wants to get his hands on it.”

Reiner does his best not to look at Bertl, doesn’t want to share one of those suspicious, conspiratorial glances because those are usually a dead give-away that something’s going on. Truth is, though, he and Bertholdt have a pretty good idea of what could be down in the basement in Shinganshina, the secrets that Dr. Jaeger was keeping from the rest of Paradis. 

“Whatever will further the cause of humanity, right?” Reiner muses with another soft snort, ignores the look Bertholdt gives him. “Anyway, what about you, Jean?”

“What _about_ me?”

“What were your parents like?”

In the span of an hour, Eren, Jean, and Connie have four beers a piece, each foaming mug brimming with new stories, new secrets, and Reiner is all too happy to donate his measly military pay for this if it means Eren will keep running his stupid mouth. 

“Mik--Mikasa thinks she’s so tough,” _hiccup_ , “and she is, but like… I mean, I could take’r in my fitan torm,” he slurs, and Connie falls into a fit of giggles. “What?”

“Y-you said-- you said _fitan torm_ instead of _titan form!_ ”

“No, I didn’t!” Eren argues indignantly, reaches out to shove the smaller cadet but sways in his seat. 

“The funniest part of that statement,” Jean drawls, raising a finger. “Is’sat you think you can take Mikasa, like--like she isn’t the best damn Scout in the legion aside from Cap- Cap’n Levi.”

“Yeah? And I’m the strongest ti--” Reiner kicks Eren’s chair to get him to shut up, or at the very least stop screaming. The brunet huffs, crosses his arms over his chest as he grumbles, “Seriously, could take her, jus’ like I could take those other titan _bastards_ … If I could jus’ get my hands on the armored and colossal _fuckers_ , I’d set things straight.”

Reiner suppresses a smirk, finds Bertholdt doing the same, then finishes the last of the ale at the bottom of his mug. “You’ll show ‘em one day, champ.”

A small commotion gains the attention of all five young men, an excited cry of, “Look, they’re back!” Reiner cranes his neck to see a group of bar patrons crowd around a small center mass as it makes its way to the center of the tavern.

“Alright, alright, back up, y’all,” a voice calls. “Or at least help me onto this table!”

“The hell is going on?” Eren mutters before standing to get a better view, he leans one way, then the other, until a girl rises from the crowd--young, probably close to the cadets’ age, and she bends down to help two others up on the makeshift platform. 

“We couldn’t get as much as we’d have liked, but this will have to do,” a little blonde announces, tugging at a cloth bag tied around her midsection. The others have similar sacks, and as soon as they open them, Reiner sees that they’re all filled with the same things: bread and apples. 

“Try to make this last for a few days.” Reiner’s eyes are drawn to _you_ , on the far left as you pass out food into waiting hands. You receive thanks and praises in return, as do the other two. “Those damn MPs really gave us a run for our money tonight.”

“Are you…” Bertl nudges Reiner, though he keeps his gaze fixed on the three young women. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Reiner knows exactly what he’s talking about; it’s pretty hard to miss. Aside from near matching threadbare sweaters and tattered pants that probably do nothing to fight the cold, each of you are wearing sets of very familiar leather straps, belts that encircle thighs and chests, and Reiner can see the rest of the gear through gaps between people in the crowd surrounding you. 

“Why do they have ODM gear?” Eren questions before Reiner can say it out loud. “Are they military?”

“Doubt it.”

“I don’t see any uniforms,” Jean agrees. 

Reiner doesn’t stay to answer or listen further, just moves to get a closer look. He’s able to make out more of what’s being said between your trio and the bar patrons--your friends? Family?

“I had just run out of food for Timothy!”

“Such great timing!”

“I don’t know where we’d be without you girls!”

“Like real superheroes, looking out for the needy!”

“Aw, come on, Mr. Nelson, it’s not that big’a deal,” the girl in the middle grins widely, and now Reiner is able to make out a feminine impish face, navy blue eyes shrouded by dark windblown hair, and small, reddened ears lined with several hoops and studs. “You’d do the same for us, if ya’ could.” 

The man she’s talking to helps her down and squeezes her tightly. “Thanks, Bells.”

“Any time,” she beams, looks back up to where you and the other girl stands. “Ash, (Y/n), y’all want drinks?”

You both nod, the blonde taking someone’s hand and using it as leverage as she also gets to the ground. Her face is speckled with light freckles, long lashes contrasting with pale cheeks. Reiner finds himself smiling a bit as she does, the energy in the bar having changed dramatically; it’s much lighter now, jovial even. Most of the food handed out remains untouched, tucked away in bags or pockets to save for later, for others. 

He’d heard a story like this before, one his mother used to tell him in Liberio about a man who went by the name Robin Hood. In terms of the black and white law, he was a criminal, a thief and a bandit. Turns out, though, he was stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, never truly hurting anyone, just taking it upon himself to distribute necessary goods the way he saw fit--the right way. 

Looking up at you as you bite into a stolen apple, Reiner can’t help but remember this story, and reaches up to offer a hand. “Need help?”

You peer down at him, eyes wide, though not scared. After a moment, you swallow the fruit in your mouth, grin widely then hop down gracefully. “No, but thanks. Did you get any food?”

Reiner shakes his head, can feel the eyes of his friends on him as he speaks. “I didn’t, bu--”

“Oh, shit, we’re all out, but uh,” and Reiner’s jaw almost drops open when you hold your apple out to him, one bite missing. “I know I just ate off it, and it’ll be bad in, like, twenty minutes, but if you’re hungry right now, it’ll help some.”

“You’re… You were eating that, and you’re just gonna give it to me…” He tries to wrap his head around it. 

You frown, “Oh, sorry, is that rude? I just thought--”

“No, no, it’s the opposite. I was always told that people down here would pretty much fight to the death for food, but you’re just handing it out.” Reiner realizes he’s just given away his position as an outsider, someone from above ground, but he isn’t too worried about it. It’s not like he’s in any real danger, not with who he is, what he’s capable of. 

“Yeah, well, that’s what we’re trying to prevent. If the Underground was supplied with enough food from up there, people wouldn’t be fighting to the death for it, now would they?”

“Obviously not,” he nods, gesturing lightly to the bar around them. “I’m Reiner.”

You respond with your own name before taking another bite of the apple and grabbing his hand, giving it a surprisingly firm shake. “So, you’re not from down here.”

“Nah, I’m, uh, a little ways from home,” he laughs at his own little joke, takes a step back to make room for the other girl, _Bells_ , as she hands you a large mug.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She nods to Reiner, “I’m Bellamy. Who’re you?”

He introduces himself again just in time for the last of the three to join them, and Reiner has to blink a couple of times because he’s somehow found himself in the middle of a small circle of tiny, grinning girls, and he’s a little conflicted because on one hand, they’re all very pretty, his heart stuttering when you flick hair out of your eyes, but on the other hand, you’re all wearing stolen military gear, apparently having just gotten back from robbing a merchant or two in Capital City. Reiner’s moral high ground was shot to shit pretty much as soon as he ate another person at age twelve, so he has no room to judge, especially since you’re stealing for a noble cause, but still, how exactly did he end up here again?

 _Eren. Secrets_. 

“I’ve got some friends here with me. Care to join?”

“Depends,” Bellamy smirks. “How obnoxious are they? I just got finished with a fuckin’ rooftop chase and would really hate to expend any more of my _valuable_ energy on a group of little boys.”

“Okay, ouch,” Reiner looks at her as she cocks a hip out. “But also, that’s understandable. Uh,” he points his group out. “The one with crazy eyes is your biggest problem, but he’s pretty good at listening when you tell him to shut the fuck up. Everyone else is easily tolerable.”

You and Ashby look to Bellamy for her decision, and Reiner gets the distinct impression that she may be who calls the shots in your little trio. After shrugging her shoulders, the brunette waves toward Reiner’s table. “Lead the way, big guy.”

He catches Bertl’s eye first, nods to the girls he’s got in tow, and the lanky man seems to reach out in three different directions to retrieve more chairs. 

“Alright, ladies, this is Eren, Jean, Connie, and this tall drink of handsome is Bertholdt.” Bertl flushes, as expected, raises a hand to flip Reiner off who just chuckles. “Guys, this is Bellamy, Ashby, and (Y/n).”

“Where’d you get the gear?” Eren sets in immediately, voice slurred but still strained. Threatening. Eren.

“Hey, Jaeger,” Reiner gets his attention, glares at the younger man. “Shut it.”

“No, it’s okay. Everyone asks,” Ashby nods, elbows Bellamy who grins sideways. “Not everyone likes the answer, though.”

“What’s the answer?”

“Stole ‘em off a few dead MPs a long time ago.”

“Holy shit,” Jean breathes, and Reiner can see the rosy color in his cheeks drain completely, giving way to a pale green instead. “You--you guys killed--”

“Fuck, no,” Bellamy laughs, “Do we really look like we could kill anyone?” She throws one arm over Ashby, one over you, and all of you bat your eyelashes innocently while Reiner stares, actually doesn’t know the answer to that question because he knows another small female who looks harmless but is, in fact, a deadly weapon. 

You shrug out from under your friend and are the first to take a seat, gear knocking loudly against the wood of the chair and table. “Some older kids stole the gear, left it to us before they got out.”

“Got out of what?”

“The Underground.”

“You make it sound like a prison,” Connie speaks, eyes hazy from the liquor as he rests his chin in one palm. Bellamy grasps one of the open chairs and turns it around so that she can straddle the seat, all in one fluid motion. “Can’t you just… walk up the staircase, same way we walked down?”

“Alright, two things,” she holds up two fingers--pointer and pinky, “One, going above ground as a little day trip is one thing, and we do it all the time. How d’you think we got the grub? We have to come back, though. Don't have citizenship up top, not to mention we’ve got people here. _That_ brings me to my second point.”

“Which is?” Eren pushes, pouts when Bellamy levels the longer finger at him. 

“You guys are fuckin’ stupid for comin' down here.”

Eren bristles as everyone else just shifts uncomfortably. Reiner tries to bite back the indignation he’s feeling, wants to call the girl out for being a bitch, but there’s a good chance she knows a few things the cadets do not, secrets of the underground.

“Bells, don’t be mean,” Ashby sighs, though she does eye the group of young men and reiterates, “She’s right, though. It wasn’t a good idea to come down here at night. Have y’all ever been in the Underground before?”

Both Reiner and Bertholdt nod, mumble, “Long time ago.”

“You remember it bein' nice?” Bellamy asks, and the two men shake their heads because, no, it had been just as, if not even more, disgusting as it is now. If Reiner and Bertl hadn’t already been used to stepping over corpses thanks to their homeland, their first trip into the Underground probably would have scarred them. While it was shocking, it was still nothing in comparison to leveling cities in Marley. “Yeah, well, it’s only gotten worse.”

“What time is it?” You ask, though it’s obviously more to yourself as you fish a pocket-watch out of your pants. “Damn.” Bellamy nods to acknowledge you, and Reiner watches your face twist into a sympathetic expression. “Past eleven. Collectors are out by now.”

“Collectors?”

“Yeah, city’s crawlin’ with ‘em,” Bellamy supplies, picks up on everyone’s confusion and elaborates, “Street thugs but worse.”

“How are they worse?”

“Because while criminals up there,” You point to the ceiling, “Still have some sense of fear, the ones down here have nothing to lose. People get mugged and stuff during the daylight hours, but night time is when killings happen, and while I wish I could say it’s all based on personal vendetta, it’s not. They target anyone and everyone, and if you’re out after a certain time of night, you’re pretty much asking for it.”

“Well, good job, Braun!” Jean actually slaps the blond on his arm. “The hell would you bring us down to a place like this? You tryin’ to get your comrades killed or something?”

“Jean, calm down,” Bertl sets a large hand on the other young man’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Comrades?” Ashby stops. “Wait, are you guys soldiers?” 

And just like that, any semblance of comfort and trust between the two groups dissipates completely. Bellamy stands, eyes flashing dangerously as both hands clench at her sides. 

Reiner speaks as Bertl holds his own hands up in defense. “Hey, hey, we’re just Scouts, couldn’t care less about the Military Police _or_ their gear, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Scouts?” You’re still sitting down, but you look wary, one eyebrow arched, lips pursed as you state, “You guys leave the walls. Fight titans.”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Eren smirks. “Like Reiner said, we don’t give a shit about the MP’s gear. Ours is better anyway.”

“How so?” Bellamy eases back into her seat but remains stiff. The boys are all pretty loose though, Eren, Connie, and Jean, taking turns telling you all just why the Survey Corps is leagues ahead of the Military Police, slowly but surely getting you back into your previously relaxed states.

“Our gear has to be better since we use it to _kill_.” Blades are thicker, grappling hooks stronger, fuel tanks slightly larger. "It's life or death."

“And we actually know how to fucking fly in it.”

“Yeah, heard you say those MPs almost got you tonight. If a Scout had been chasing you guys, you wouldn’t have gotten away.”

“That so?” Bellamy snorts, looks at a cocky Jean with obvious amusement. 

“Hell yeah. We would have been able to take you down, no problem.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

One of the barmaids comes over with eight full mugs, happily tells the large group, “On the house,” before lowering the heavy tray right onto the middle of the table. New, frothing ale and a chance to brag seems to have the younger men distracted from the real problem that’s been presented, but Reiner hasn’t forgotten about it. 

You’re the closest out of the three of you and aren’t adding to the now boisterous conversation as much as you’re just watching your friends banter with the drunk boys. When Reiner leans toward you, you refocus your attention on him and move closer so you can hear when he asks, “So, not to sound like an idiot, but what do you recommend we do tonight?”

“Stay,” you answer immediately. “You don’t have much of a choice. The tavern closes at two, but they’re not going to kick you out onto the streets. If you want, I can even go talk to Manny about your situation so he knows what’s going on."

“My situation?” 

“Yeah,” you giggle, a contagious little smile splitting pale lips. “A few stupid soldier boys decided to be bold and come to a bar in the Underground, bit off a little more than they could chew.”

“Oh, is that right?” Reiner is by no means drunk, barely even buzzed, as all he’s had is that first beer and the few sips out of this one, but his body grows warm as if he is inebriated, thoughts going a little fuzzy as he catches the twinkle in your eyes, the light flush that paints your cheeks when he flashes a wolfish grin. 

If he has to stay underground for the night, stuck with his idiot friends, he may as well make the best of this _situation_.

"Sure, why not. Let's go talk to Manny." 

You lean over to Bellamy, temporarily pull her from whatever stupid-as-shit chat she’s having with Jaeger, and whisper something in her ear before you stand and nod over your shoulder for Reiner to follow you, which he does--from the table, through the crowd, behind the bar and beyond. Floorboards creak underneath Reiner’s boots in the pitch black hallway as he walks behind you, and judging by the speed you’re moving, you either know the building very well or have exceptional darkvision. It takes you about two seconds to realize he’s falling behind, and suddenly, nimble fingers are curling around Reiner’s forearm, pulling him along until you stop in front of a closed door, very dim light streaming out from the crack between it and the ground. 

You knock, a voice tells you to come in, and Reiner is faced with a stooped middle-aged man with long greasy hair and a cigarette hanging from his toothy smile. “(Y’n),” he greets. “What can I do ya' for?”

“Uh, we have a tiny problem.” The man’s light eyes flicker, or maybe it’s the candle on the wall that flickers, is simply reflected in the smoky orbs. “Nothing serious, just you’ve got a few Scouts in your bar tonight, and they’re kinda stuck until morning. Mind taking in some fine, upstanding soldiers for the evening?”

“We can pay you,” Reiner says, steps forward and holds a hand out. “There’s five of us.”

Manny takes his hand, and his grip is cold and bony but tight. “Scouts, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Came for a fun night out,” you snicker. “Didn’t really know what they were getting themselves into.”

“Well,” the man hums. “Suppose I can spare a room or two for the kids risking their lives to take down titans. Brave work. I sure as shit wouldn’t be caught outside the walls.” He moves back toward the desk behind him, opens a small drawer and procures two keys, hands them to you. “Rooms three and four. Cleo has two booked for the night, though, so sorry ‘bout it.”

You snort as you take the metal. “Somehow I think they’ll live.”

“What do we owe you?” Reiner asks, is surprised when he’s waved off.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Just don’t expect some kind of continental breakfast or anything.”

You both thank the older man again before backing out of the dimly lit office of sorts. “Want me to show you the rooms?” you ask, and Reiner can feel your fingertips brush the side of his palm as you’re plunged back into darkness. 

You’re cute, really cute, and you’ve been making eyes at Reiner basically since you started talking about half an hour ago. He’s pretty sure _showing him the rooms_ will turn into something more, and while he didn’t leave HQ earlier that night looking to get laid, he’s certainly not going to say no to it. 

“Yeah, should probably check them out.”

The staircase that leads to the second story of what looked like, from outside, the rickety building, is fucking perilous, steps varying in height and width. You even stumble once, catching yourself at the top with a soft laugh. “Whoops.”

“You drunk off one beer?”

“You wish.”

The second story is easier to navigate thanks to a large paned window at the end of a narrow hallway. The floors and walls are bathed in pale moonlight, and because of it, Reiner can see the bashful smile on your face. 

“Why would I wish you were drunk?” He plays, stays close as you pace to one of the six closed doors and shove one of the keys into the lock. “Think I would take advantage?”

You raise an eyebrow, look over your shoulder at him. “You saying you wouldn’t?”

Reiner chuckles, the sound low as it rumbles from his throat, covers your hand on the doorknob with his own and twists. “It’s not taking advantage if you want it, too, sweetheart.”

You don’t make it to the second room, just step into the first and shut the door behind you. As Reiner descends on you, he hears a few different voices in his head--both Commanders Smith and Magath, Zeke, and Bertl, all asking _what the hell are you doing_ , followed by his own, a gruff claim that _it’ll just be once, just gotta blow off some steam._

Your skin is hot, discolored in places from the gear just like his is, but soft and pliant in Reiner’s hands. Touching you is electrifying, tasting you is sinful, and the little sounds you make has him shaking with lust. He hasn’t done this in a while, not since training corps days, and it’s something he’s been able to ignore for the most part, but now, kneeling on the thin mattress, pushing into a near blinding heat, he realizes just how-- _fuck_ \--badly he needs this. 

It isn’t drawn out, how can it be when you’re both so desperate, and Reiner pulls out to finish with a low groan, jaw dropping when you take his length in your hand and sit up to stroke him to completion, open your god damn mouth as he starts to come, and Reiner watches transfixed as you catch a couple strings of white on your tongue.

 _“Ho-ly fuck_.” Mid-orgasm, he isn’t sure he’s ever been so turned on in his life. “You’re fucking filthy.”

You let out a debauched little giggle before closing your mouth and swallowing what you were able to catch. “That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Cum is literally dripping from your chin to your chest, and Reiner just stares for a few seconds, still gasping and shaking as he starts to come down.

“That what you wanna call yourself? A lady?” He laughs again, flops onto his back. “‘Cause I was thinking more like succubus.”

“Isn’t that a sex demon?” 

“Exactly,” Reiner grins lazily, reaches out to tap the thigh next to his head. “Fitting, I think. Now sit on my face.”

“I mean, if you insist.”

After a couple rounds, Reiner is who ventures back downstairs, muscles like jelly and eyes foggy as he drops off one key at the table full of his friends as well as Ashby and Bellamy. Bertl’s brow furrows, yet his lips turn up at the corners, easily reads the situation and ends up shaking his head. There’s no judgment, just subtle disbelief. 

“Got you guys a room for whenever you feel like turning in for the night, right upstairs.” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he talks. He can still taste you on it.

“Just one room?” Eren pouts. “There’s five of us.”

Reiner barely registers movement to his right and down a little. Bellamy shifts, looks up at him, and grins as she blows his cover, “Oh, he got more than one room. He’s just choosing to keep one for himself, isn’t that right, big guy?”

Turning his palms outward, he shrugs, tries and fails to hide his own giddy smile. Damn, it’s been a while since he’s been high off post-sex endorphins. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles half-heartedly. “Behave yourselves tonight.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Jean scoffs with a roll of his eyes. 

Reiner flips him off, the only response he gives before turning and making his way back through the throng of patrons and to the back staircase, ascending it once again. Back in the room, he sheds his clothes, lowers himself onto the sorry excuse for a bed right over you, kisses and nips at your shoulders. You pick up where you left off, a mess of rolling hips and nails carving into skin, whines and grunts and curses. 

Throughout the night, Reiner picks up on different noises, doors on either side of them opening and closing, Eren’s loud fucking complaining in the room to your right, rhythmic squeaking and provocative groaning to your left, but he’s too caught up in you to pay it any mind--you who come apart in his hands over and over again, who swings between _more, more, please more,_ and _god, stop, I ca--can’t take you, oh fuck, Reiner--_

He’s going to be in so much trouble in the morning. As if his friends’ sure-to-be witty jabs won’t be bad enough, Reiner is going to be dead tired by the time the five of them get back to headquarters, will probably fall asleep into his lunch and then be forced to endure more ridicule and maybe even a slap on the wrist from some higher-ups.

Still, it’ll be worth it. If Reiner gets to spend the next few hours hearing you say his name like a prayer, feel your muscles clench around him as you shatter once again, it’ll be worth it. 

For tonight, he is neither Scout nor Warrior--just a boy getting lost with a girl


End file.
